


Savin' Me

by hunter_king



Series: Supernatural - Wincest [33]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Mean John, Minor Character Death, Swearing, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 01:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16692910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunter_king/pseuds/hunter_king
Summary: Sam Colt is a young pleasure slave sold to John Winchester. What starts as a great relationship soon turns into one of power and pain, hatred and force. Sam can barely move after John's 'sessions' without blinding pain ripping through his body. The shock collar he is forced to wear prevents his escape.The only bright spots in his life are when John's son, Dean, comes to visit him. Dean treats him like an equal and Sam quickly develops a crush. He dreams of the younger Winchester coming to his rescue.Little does he know, Dean would love to have him for himself. But as far as Dean knows, John treats Sam well and Sam is happy right where he is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for the spn_hardcore_bb  
> Beta'd by vyperdd  
> Art by lylithj2 (accound purged and deleted on LJ)

His whole body ached as he sat curled up in the fetal position on the dingy motel bed. John had been particularly rough with him last night because this was the last night they were going to be together before John headed out on this next hunt. He didn’t plan on taking Sam with him, so he had to get his fill in when he still had time. After all, he never knew how long these hunts were going to last. 

Sometimes, Sam wished that John just wouldn’t come back from his stupid hunts. It was an awful thing to wish for, and Sam felt like a bad person for it, but he just couldn’t help it. John abused him more often than not, and Sam just wanted it to end. If John was out of the picture, Sam could at least relax and not have to worry about getting hurt. Of course, that would leave him with nowhere to go except aback to the slave house where he had been before being given to John, but Sam was starting to think that was a better idea than being here. 

It hadn’t always been like this. John used to be really nice to him, and Sam loved being his slave. John had treated him like a son, and Sam had never been treated so well by someone before. He hadn’t been expected to have sex – or even pleasure John sexually at all – and he was grateful for that. After all, Sam hadn’t chosen to be a pleasure slave. His parents had been down on luck and money, and when the man came to their house and offered to take Sam away from them for a large wad of cash, they reluctantly agreed.

They had no idea that the man was going to force Sam into sexual situations and make him a pleasure slave. The man, Gordon Walker, had assured them that he would find work for Sam at random farms because he was too young to get a real job for another two years. His training had lasted four years and almost as soon as he had been placed up for sale, John Winchester bought him. It was the first time since Sam was taken from his family that he felt loved and wanted. He felt like he had a family again.

At least that had lasted for the first three years. John taught him things about the other world that everyone else turned their backs to and Sam became very good at research. John had even gotten him his own laptop so he could browse the internet for anything that he could find about the Supernatural. The books were nice and all, but the computer made everything go faster. Well, the computer and the tips that Bobby Singer had given him on the few occasions that he’d met the older hunter. He and John were apparently very good friends, so that made him a good guy in Sam’s book as well.

But then the hunt with the shape-shifter had come along and shattered Sam’s perfect little fantasy. He had never seen John so drunk, and John had never been so rough and mean to him. Hell, _no one_ had ever been mean to Sam – even in the pleasure house where people could come in and have free reign on whichever slave they wanted for the evening. Sam learned that night that he hadn’t known pain and humiliation before John Winchester got his hands on him. He could remember it like it had been just yesterday although it had been nearly a year ago.

_John stumbled drunkenly through the door, grunting in slight pain as his recently dislocated shoulder bumped against the door frame. It was well after three in the morning, and he could see that Sam was already sleeping, though that didn’t stop him from letting the door slam closed, startling the younger man from his slumber._

_When Sam jackknifed awake, the sheet that had been covering him slipped downwards, revealing the younger man’s chiseled chest and abs. After all, it was a humid summer evening and the air conditioning in this motel room was out of service, so Sam was only wearing his boxers to keep himself cool. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, having been waiting up for John because he knew that he’d been coming home tonight, but exhaustion had eventually won out._

_Rubbing the sleep from his right eye with the back of his knuckle, Sam mumbled, “John, hey, I was waiting up for you.” He turned at the waist and glanced at the old digital clock on the nightstand, frowning at the red numbers that flashed from bright to dim and then back. “It’s really late. You should get some sleep if you still want to hit the road early today.” Sam could tell now that he was a little more awake that John seemed like he was in pain, which would explain why he looked a little unsteady on his feet. “Are you all right?”_

_That little slip of the sheets had John’s brain working overtime. He had never wanted a pleasure slave, but he’d gone into that house looking for a contact of his for a job that he was working, and that’s when he realized how these poor people were forced to live. Sure, he’d been aware that these places existed and they weren’t necessarily a good place to be, but this was worse than he could ever imagine. Sam had caught his eye there, and before he knew it, he was handing over a stack of bills and walking out of there with Sam Colt as his new pleasure slave._

_But Sam had been a child back then – barely eighteen. Now, he was twenty-two, and he was_ all _man. And John had thought about taking him before, but Sam never seemed interested; John could see now that he just hadn’t been paying close enough attention. Why else would Sam let his body on display for him like this?_

_And he was drunk and willing to take the all but begging young slave. After all, he had just finished up with a particularly bad hunt and he needed something to take his mind off of it because the alcohol just hadn’t worked. A shape-shifter had gotten away from him and killed three people before he could catch up to it again and finally take it out. Although the silver had done its job and killed the thing, John salted and burned the body just to be safe before he’d gone to the closest bar to drown the guilt that he felt for the loss of those young peoples’ lives._

_Without answering, John moved towards the bed, all but falling on top of Sam as his hands gripped the younger man’s upper arms roughly. His lips messily searched out Sam’s lips, a small moan breaking from John’s throat when he finally found his mark, tongue thrusting drunkenly into Sam’s mouth._

_A shocked gasp escaped Sam when John crushed their lips together, giving John’s tongue the opportunity to invade his mouth. He didn’t know what to think – his job description clearly stated that he was supposed to pleasure John Winchester, his master, in any way the other man saw fit, but John had never asked this of him before. Maybe this was just in a drunken haze, Sam smelling the overpowering stench of whiskey on the older man’s breath, and John didn’t really want this._

_Quickly, Sam pulled his head back, turning his face to the side when John tried to crush their lips together again. “John, stop,” Sam whispered softly, giving his head a small shake as he squeezed his eyes closed. His hands pressed against John’s chest, trying to keep the older man at arm’s length until he figured out a way to make John realize what he was doing. Surely, if he’d wanted this from Sam, John would have made an advance on him earlier. It wasn’t like Sam could have protested, after all. But this had to be just because John was drunk, and Sam was going to do whatever it took to make John understand what he was doing. “Please, you don’t want this. You’re just drunk. Just…stop; sleep off the alcohol and if you still want this in the morning, then we can do it.”_

_It was rather shocking to John that Sam – his_ pleasure slave _– was telling him that he couldn’t have what he wanted. Like Sam actually had a say in this. “I know what I want,” he slurred as he gripped Sam’s chin and forced his face forward, crushing their lips together again. His free hand moved over Sam’s chest, fingers pressing into the ridges of muscle that had his dick hardening in seconds flat. His pleasure slave could have easily put up a fight, but John knew he wouldn’t._

_Sam really didn’t think John knew what he was doing, and he needed to make John see that. His lips were attacked by John’s again, the older man’s tongue invading his mouth and Sam felt like he was going to lose the meager contents of his stomach. After all, he’d only had a small amount of food for dinner from a diner down the street that delivered and it hadn’t sat very well. Now that he was being violated like this, he was feeling even worse._

_Again, Sam pushed at John, using his legs this time to move back away from John before he started to get off the bed. “John, please…just sleep off the alcohol. It’s messing with your brain.” This time when John moved in for more, Sam scrambled off the bed, the sheets tangling around his ankles and causing him to fall, his head smacking off the edge of the coffee table, splitting the flesh open._

_Once Sam was down, John got off the bed, reaching for the younger man and hauling him to his feet. He made sure that Sam was still conscious before he tossed him onto the bed again, blanketing Sam’s body with his own. Roughly, he gripped Sam’s hip, forcing him onto his stomach as his hand gripped both of Sam’s wrists, holding him pinned to the bed. “You see what happens when you fight?” he hissed in the younger man’s ear. “Just lie there and take it, Sammy. It’s what you were bought for, after all.”_

_Tears of shame and pain sprang to Sam’s eyes when John hissed in his ear. Before he knew what was happening, John was yanking his boxers down his hips, letting them bunch around his thighs as he shoved two dry fingers into Sam’s unprepared hole. Just because he was a pleasure slave, didn’t mean Sam had been with many people before he was sold to John. Actually, he had only been with his trainer, who had always treated him nicely. Well, there had been that one time with one of the other slaves there, but that had been against Sam’s consent, and at least the other slave had used spit as a form of lubrication._

_Before he was ready, Sam felt John’s fingers pulling from his ass as he heard the sound of John’s zipper being pulled down. No, it wasn’t enough; there was no way he was prepared enough for this. He tried to struggle away, but John tightened his grip and shoved Sam’s face into the mattress roughly with his free hand as he barked at Sam to stop moving. Although he didn’t want to, Sam did as he was told, knowing that if he just followed orders there was a chance it wouldn’t hurt as badly as it could._

_Unfortunately, Sam had been wrong. He screamed in pain as John pushed his hard cock into his unprepared flesh, tears sliding down his cheeks. It hurt so bad Sam thought that he was going to black out. Hell, he was begging that he’d black out – he wasn’t that lucky. The only thing he had to be grateful for was the fact that John didn’t last long in his drunken state, groaning lewdly in Sam’s ear as he came._

_He didn’t even bother to tuck himself back into his pants as he rolled over and passed out. Sam made sure to stay completely still until he was absolutely sure that John was asleep – only then did he slide off the bed, wincing in pain as he pulled his boxers up and slowly limped to the bathroom. His hands trembled as he wiped the blood and cum from his thighs and gently washed around his tender hole._

_Shame had his cheeks burning a bright pink as he walked into the room again and pulled a clean pair of boxers out of his duffel bag. Wiping his tears, Sam climbed into the bed and curled into the fetal position, sniffling softly as he kept his eyes on John, making sure the other man didn’t wake up. Only when his eye lids started to flutter from exhaustion did Sam finally fall asleep._

A hard slap to his right cheek snapped Sam out of his memories, the blow causing the younger man to fall onto the mattress in a sprawled out mess of limbs. “You fucking answer me when I talk to you, Sam!” John ordered harshly, shoving his gun into his duffel bag. “Get your ass dressed, now. We’re leaving in five minutes and I don’t want to have to wait for you.” With that, John headed into the bathroom to get his toothbrush and his shaving kit.

Sam knew better than to question where they were going, instead moving from the bed and digging in his duffel for some clean clothes. He didn’t really have much of a selection because when he was alone with John, he had to wear the slave house issued thin gray underwear. They were practically see-through and walking around in them was very degrading. And the collar that he was forced to wear only added to that degradation. But if Sam said anything about them, he would be punished, so he kept his mouth shut. 

After pulling on a pair of baggy jeans and his hoodie, Sam moved to the door, heading to the truck so John wouldn’t have to wait for him. His toothbrush and shaving kit were already packed up. He’d done that last night when he couldn’t get any sleep because of the pain radiating through his body. The pain was still there and Sam could barely get into the truck without wincing. He didn’t miss the smirk on John’s lips when he noticed that Sam was still hurting, and Sam would have done anything to gather the courage to slap that smile right off that asshole’s face. But he didn’t – he just curled up in the seat and watched the scenery go by as John drove them to their destination.

At some point, Sam must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes again, John was pulling into the roadhouse parking lot and ordering Sam out of the truck. He was so tired that he barely registered that they had parked beside a familiar black 1967 Chevy Impala. It didn’t take him long to realize it though, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of seeing Dean again. 

Dean Winchester was John’s son, and Sam really enjoyed spending time with him. After all, John tried to keep Sam all to himself, so when he was allowed around other people, it was a treat for him. Over the years, Sam actually developed a small crush on Dean – all right, it was a big crush, but he wasn’t going to admit to that. The older man was nice to Sam, and he treated him like an equal – not like a slave. Sometimes, Sam would dream about Dean coming to rescue him from John, but he knew that’s all it was – just a dream. 

But dreams are for people who still have hope, which Sam does not. He’s nothing but a pleasure slave. And pleasure slaves don’t get to live happily ever after like the characters in fairy tales. Still, the moments when he got to see Dean were the only bright spots in his life since John started to abuse him, and he would take what he could get.

He couldn’t hide the smile that came to his lips when his eyes landed on Dean leaning over the pool table, hustling some poor schmuck out of his hard earned cash. Sam had to admit that it was really sexy the way Dean shot his pool cue into the balls and made them fly into the holes. His cheeks burned brightly when he caught Dean looking their way, Sam quickly looking at the floor where his eyes were supposed to be. After all, pleasure slaves weren’t supposed to make direct eye contact with anyone unless they were told to.

Once he had cleaned off the pool table and collected his winnings, Dean took a seat at the table where Sam and John had been seated. “Hey Dad,” he greeted with a small smile, his attention then turning to Sam. “Sammy, how’s it going?” He didn’t miss the small blush that came to Sam’s cheeks at his greeting, the older man smiling once more. Sam was so bashful when he was around John. All Dean had to do was call him Sammy and he was blushing like a school girl with a crush. When they were alone, Sam didn’t act that way. “So, why’d you want to meet me here?” he asked, his attention back on John as he sipped from his beer that Jo had brought him about twenty minutes ago.

“I found a hunt,” John explained simply, taking a long pull from his beer before he gripped Sam’s hair a little roughly, combing through the thick strands. “And I’m not sure how long it’s going to last. So, with that being said, I want you to watch Sam for me.” John didn’t trust the younger man to be alone for long periods of time. The kid was smart as hell, and the last thing John needed was for Sam to figure out a way to get that damn collar off and run away. After all, it was no secret that Sam was just itching to get away. “I don’t want him to get lonely while I’m gone.”

Without hesitation, Dean answered, “Yeah, sure, Sammy can stay with me.” Hell, Dean would have loved for his father to let him be with Sam for a few hours every day if he thought the older man would allow it. Dean was sort of crushing on Sam, although he felt like an asshole for it. Sam was his father’s pleasure slave, and Dean shouldn’t have had these feelings for him, but he just couldn’t help it. He’d tried to make them go away – he’d been with every willing person he could find in an attempt to make himself forget about how badly he wanted Sam, but it turned out that it only made him want Sam more. It surely didn’t help that most of the people he had been with reminded him of Sam in one way or another, either he supposed.

When John told Dean that he wanted him to watch Sam while he was gone, Sam nearly choked on his own tongue. Usually, when John went on a hunt, Sam was chained up in some old abandoned warehouse John had rented for that purpose alone. Sam had never been able to stay with another person before. He was just glad that it was Dean and not one of John’s other friends; Bobby wouldn’t have been so bad, but Dean was so much better.

After ordering a few more drinks, John finally stood, explaining that he was going to hit the road early so he could meet up with a contact who had more information for him about this hunt he was about to go on. Once he was gone, Dean finished his beer and stood. “C’mon Sammy, let’s go shoot some pool,” he suggested, leading the way to the pool table that was now unoccupied. He’d been playing pool almost since he got here, but that had all been for money. Now, he wanted to just sit back and relax and just play for fun. Dean knew that he could do that with Sam.

Although Sam really didn’t know how to play pool very well, he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to just have a little bit of fun with Dean. So, he got out of his seat and followed Dean to the pool table, grabbing a pool cue and starting to chalk it up. After all, he wanted to at least look like he knew what he was doing. Of course, as soon as he tried to make his first shot, it was obvious that he had no clue how to play like a pro like Dean. 

Needless to say, Sam lost the game very badly.

Chuckling, Dean placed his pool cue back on the rack where he had gotten it, gathering all of the balls and putting them back, too. “Hasn’t Dad been teaching you anything about the art of hustling pool?” Dean asked, almost shocked. The kid could really help bring in some extra money. However, when Sam shook his head in answer, Dean was genuinely confused. “Well, what do you do when he goes out to pull in some extra cash? Sit at the motel room and do nothing?”

A small shrug was the only answer Dean received, the older man giving Sam a small frown at his lack of verbal answers. There was something off about Sam right now, and Dean was getting a little uneasy about it. “Are you all right, Sam?” he asked, worry clear on his face. “You don’t seem yourself.” Suddenly, a thought occurred to him – maybe Sam didn’t want to stay with him while John was away. “Do you…not want to stay with me?”

He had been under the impression that he and Sam got along pretty well, but if Sam would rather be with someone else, then Dean wasn’t going to force him to stay here. After all, he wasn’t Dean’s pleasure slave; therefore, he wasn’t Dean’s to boss around. That was John’s right, and although Dean would have done anything to make it his right, he knew that it was never going to happen.

Quickly, Sam shook his head, eyes getting wide as saucers at the thought of Dean thinking he didn’t want to be around him. That was just a ridiculous thought! “N-No, Dean, it’s not that at all,” he assured the other man. “I just…didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m a little tired is all.” Smiling at Dean, Sam added, “Trust me when I tell you, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

And really, Dean had _no idea_ how true Sam’s words really were. Sam couldn’t think of a better place in the world to be other than with Dean. This was going to end, and Sam knew that, but for now, he was going to take his little piece of paradise and enjoy it. 

Dean could understand being tired. Hell, he never got enough sleep because that was just the unfortunate life of a hunter, he supposed. His father could really vouch for that if anyone needed proof. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he chuckled, grabbing his leather jacket off the chair that he had been sitting on earlier. “I’m gonna hit the head and then we can get out of here.” There was no way he was going to make it home without peeing first.

Once he was finished taking care of business, Dean moved through the bar again, finding Sam and leading the way out to the Impala. He was staying at a motel only a few miles down the road, so it didn’t take long to get there, the older man opening the door for Sam and blushing slightly when he remembered that he had gotten a room with a king-sized bed. After all, his father hadn’t warned him that he’d be staying with Sam for the duration of his father’s latest hunt, so how was Dean supposed to know that he needed two beds?!

“Um…I can sleep on the floor if you want the bed,” Dean suggested, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The floor would seriously fuck with his already aching back, but Dean would sleep there without a complaint if Sam wanted the bed. Sam was the guest here, and Dean knew that the floor could be bad on anyone – if he made Sam sleep down there and Sam hurt himself, John would be pissed, Dean was sure. It was wrong to damage someone else’s property, after all. 

Not that Dean thought of Sam as property. He was a human being who had gotten himself into an unfortunate situation, that’s all. Luckily for Sam, he had been bought by John and not some pervert who would actually want Sam to do his job. As far as Dean knew, John never made Sam do anything sexual for him because his father wasn’t attracted to men, for one, and for another, John would never force someone twenty years his junior into sexual acts. That just wasn’t the kind of man his father was; John Winchester was a hero.

A small frown came to Sam’s lips when Dean suggested that he sleep on the floor, the younger man giving his head a small shake. It was a king sized bed, so there was no worry about them both not fitting. Sam was big, sure, but he wasn’t _that_ big. Hell, he wasn’t really _wide_ at all, especially since he had been dealing with malnourishment since John changed. Really, he was just tall, so there was plenty of room. “We can both fit on the bed,” he explained. “I won’t try anything.”

The last thing Dean was worried about was Sam trying anything. He was more worried that he couldn’t control himself and he’d try to go too far with Sam. But he didn’t want to sleep on the floor either, so he would force himself to keep his hands off Sam. “Okay, if you don’t mind,” he answered, stripping off his jacket and moving towards the bathroom. “I’m going to shower really quick and then I’m gonna sack out. Make yourself at home.”

As Dean showered, Sam dug in his duffel bag – which John had tossed into the Impala before he left the roadhouse – looking for something he could wear to bed. It was pretty warm in the motel room, but Sam knew that he had to choose his clothing appropriately. His wrists still had bruises from where John had cuffed him to make-shift pulley attached to the ceiling and left him there for hours while John abused his body. Sam’s arms ached with the pressure of holding his body up still although it had been nearly ten hours ago. 

That had been his punishment for not sucking John’s cock when he was told to. Sam had been tired and his throat was still sore from the night before when John roughly straddled his face and fucked into his mouth, so Sam hadn’t been in the mood. Little did the younger man know that John was going to be so rough with him when it came to punishment. Sam was still all achy and he still had a hard time sitting for too long. Every day it seemed like the punishments just kept getting worse – harsher and harsher as the hours went on. 

Sam hated it.

More often than not, Sam thought that John just ordered him to do things so he could hurt him in the long run. These days, it seemed like John was only happy when he was inflicting pain on Sam. What had used to be a great friendship soon turned into one of power and pain, hatred and force. Half of the time, Sam couldn’t move for days after John was finished with him without blinding pain ripping through his body. If he hadn’t been forced to wear the collar that let everyone know that he was a pleasure slave, he would have escaped long before now. One of these days, he was going to figure out how to get the collar off and he was going to run as fast and as far away from John Winchester as he could get. 

Finally, Sam decided on a light gray hoodie and a pair of black sweat pants. He’d probably get a little warm throughout the night, but he was just going to have to deal with it. There was no way he could let Dean see the bruises littering his body, after all. If he saw, Dean would want answers, and Sam didn’t have anything for him. John had made it very clear that if he ever told anyone what John did to him, the older man would start to hurt innocent people in front of Sam. Once, he had even threatened Dean, which had really gotten to Sam.

He’d had nightmares for weeks after the threat of John tying Dean up and torturing him the way John did Sam. Sam would wake up in the middle of the night screaming, which only made John laugh before he forced Sam into sex once more until he was so exhausted that he couldn’t even move anymore. Sam really hated the man that John had become.

When he was dressed, Sam climbed into the bed, covering himself up to the waist before thinking better of it and pulling the blankets around his neck. At least this way, it would be harder for Dean to see the evidence of his abuse in case his hoodie unzipped itself in the middle of the night. After all, it was an old article of clothing and the zipper was getting a little faulty these days. And he didn’t think that Dean would pull the blankets off him if Sam had them a certain way.

By the time Dean climbed out of the shower, Sam was already sleeping. He noticed that Sam looked so young and innocent in his sleep – it made Dean even more attracted to him. But he couldn’t think like that. Sam was with John and he was happy there. If Dean tried anything and by the off chance that Sam felt the same way, Dean would want to take him on hunts with him and be with Sam all of the time, which would take Sam away from John. And John had already lost so much, so there was no chance he was going to do that.

Sighing, Dean shoved those thoughts out of his mind, pulling the blankets back once he had his boxers on and climbed into the bed. A small frown came to his lips when he realized what Sam was wearing, the older man wondering how Sam could dress in such heavy clothing when the room didn’t even have air conditioning. Of course, it wasn’t his place to tell Sam what to wear, but it was odd that he wouldn’t just sleep in the sweat pants.

Maybe Dean should have gotten a shirt on, but he was hot. Besides, Sam was already sleeping, so he didn’t think the younger man would mind. And when Sam woke up, Dean would probably be in a different position and the younger man wouldn’t even know that he was shirtless. At least that’s the explanation Dean was using as he rolled onto his side, back facing Sam to fend off the temptation, and closed his eyes. As far as he knew, there was a hunt in Jericho, California that he needed to be at some time by tomorrow afternoon, so he needed to rest up. After all, if he didn’t do something, men were going to keep disappearing without a trace on that little slip of road. And Dean couldn’t let that happen.

Of course, now that he had Sam here with him, he was going to have to take the younger man along. He just hoped that John had taught Sam the basics of hunting in case Dean needed some back up. Dean couldn’t think of a reason why John wouldn’t, so he wasn’t all that worried about it. Besides, as far as Dean could tell, it was just going to be a quick salt and burn, so even if Sam wasn’t trained, Dean probably wouldn’t need him. He just had to make sure that Sam was out of harm’s way and everything would be fine.

But he’d think more on that tomorrow when they had to deal with it. Right now, he just wanted his brain to shut off so he could get some sleep. It was already well past midnight, and if he wanted to make it to Jericho by late afternoon, he needed to leave the motel room no later than seven thirty in the morning. 

Dean hoped that Sam wasn’t the type who liked to sleep in late, otherwise this partnership was going to be a lot harder than Dean had originally thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam woke the next morning to the sound of someone rummaging around in drawers and tossing things into a duffel bag. Slowly, he pushed himself into a seated position, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he watched Dean packing up. “Are we leaving?” he asked, having been under the impression that this is where they were going to be staying until John got back from his hunt. Then again, Sam supposed that was a stupid assumption since Dean was a hunter; of course they were going to be moving on.

It was only six fifty when Dean pushed himself out of the bed and started packing, figuring that he’d let Sam sleep a few more minutes before he got him up. After all, Sam wasn’t unpacked, so he wouldn’t take long to get ready. “Hey Sammy,” he whispered with a small smile. “Sorry, did I wake you?” At Sam’s question, Dean nodded, licking his lips. “Yeah, we gotta go to Jericho. There’s something happening there and I want to see if it’s our kind of deal.”

“We’re going on a hunt?” Sam asked, his heart starting to beat loudly in his chest. Sam had never been on a hunt before. He didn’t know how to use a gun, and he had never seen a ghost up close and personal, let alone any of the other types of things John hunted. The closest he had ever been to something John hunted had been looking at it in a book! He wasn’t ready to go on a hunt with Dean. What if something went wrong – he wouldn’t be able to do anything to fix it!

If Dean didn’t know any better, he would have thought that Sam was afraid. But he knew that wasn’t the case; he lived with a hunter, so surely, he knew what it was like to go on a hunt! “Yeah,” he answered with a small chuckle. “Is that a problem?” Frowning slightly, Dean quirked a brow at the younger man. “You’ve…been on a hunt before, right Sammy? I mean, Dad’s taken you hunts with him before, right?”

His cheeks burned pink with the admission that he had never been on a hunt before. “John lets me help research sometimes, but I’ve never been on a hunt,” Sam explained, picking at the scratchy motel blanket. “Usually, I just stay in the motel when John goes on a hunt.” It was close enough to the truth, anyway. Of course, it wasn’t so much the motel room he stayed in, but a warehouse, though Sam figured it was an acceptable fib. After all, telling Dean that his father was an abusive psychopath probably wasn’t such a good idea.

Honestly, Dean was shocked that John would leave Sam alone in the motel room unprotected while he was away on a hunt. But the look on the younger man’s face, Dean could tell that Sam was worried about this, which led Dean to believe that the kid didn’t know the first thing about fighting either. That meant that every time he was alone, Sam could possibly be an easy target for something nasty – especially if that something knew that Sam belonged to John Winchester.

Yeah, leaving Sam alone was definitely not something Dean would have done.

Sighing, Dean zipped his duffel, tossing it on the chair beside the table. “Look, I just don’t want to leave you alone while I’m out there, all right? I mean, as far as I can tell, this thing’s just a simple salt and burn, so it’ll be pretty straight forward and easy; it’ll be done quick.” He shrugged slightly as he added, “I probably won’t even need your help.”

Sam wouldn’t have minded helping, but he had to admit that it was a relief that Dean wasn’t going to need him. After all, Sam had never been in a fight before, and he knew that he had no chance against a spirit. But if Dean wasn’t going to need him, then Sam wasn’t worried about this anymore, so he was going to follow Dean’s orders and do whatever he could to help. Like he had said, John allowed him to help with research before, and he was pretty damn good at it if he said so himself. “All right,” he mumbled softly, a small smile coming to his lips. “Um…do I have time to shower before we leave?”

“Sure,” Dean answered with a small smile. “I’m just gonna make sure I have everything and then run down to the diner and grab some breakfast. You still like pancakes?” The last time he and Sam had been together, the younger man had devoured pancakes like they were going out of style. Not that Dean blamed him – they were definitely good – though Dean preferred to eat bacon and eggs for breakfast. Or if there was something more enticing on special that day, Dean would go for that just as quickly.

Smiling, Sam nodded. “Yes, I still like pancakes,” Sam assured him. “Who doesn’t like pancakes?” Sam had never met anyone crazy enough to dislike pancakes. Then again, Sam hadn’t met many people in life, so what did he really know? After all, the only people he met other than Dean weren’t necessarily interested in talking about food choices. Quickly, he pulled the blankets back and padded to the bathroom. 

The hot water felt good against his aching body, so Sam took a little longer than he normally would have. He was healing just fine now that John wasn’t around to inflict more damage, but it wasn’t fast enough. Sam wanted to be completely healed – especially since they were going on a hunt. And even if Dean didn’t need him, Sam wanted to be able to move without pain shooting through his body. After all, he needed to either jump out of the way or do something if this thing saw him and decided to attack.

He’d taken longer in the shower than he had to, but Dean hadn’t come in to complain, so he figured it was all right. Only when the water ran cold did Sam climb out, thankful that he’d thought ahead and brought clothes into the bathroom with him. The last thing he needed was for Dean to see the abuse his body had taken in the last few days because Sam didn’t have an explanation as to how they’d gotten there that would suffice. And he sure as hell wasn’t telling Dean the truth. Besides, there were better things to think about right now – like the pancakes that he was about to devour.

Dean merely smiled at Sam as he watched him dig into his breakfast. The kid looked like he was starving the way he was scarfing down his food, but Dean knew that couldn’t be true – John wouldn’t let Sam starve himself. “So, I figure if we’re on the road by 7:30, we should be able to make it to Jericho by nightfall. Then we can rest up and start this hunt tomorrow. If I’m right, it shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”

As Sam took another bite, he nodded, letting Dean know that he’d been listening to him. It had been so long since he’d had a pancake before now, so he was just trying to enjoy. The thought of the upcoming hunt didn’t even make his appreciation for the pancakes dwindle. Then again, Dean had assured him that he wouldn’t need him, so maybe Sam was just now starting to believe him. Either way, the pancakes were delicious!

Before Sam knew it, the clock was reading 7:30 and they were climbing into the Impala. The music was turned up pretty high, so Sam figured Dean didn’t want to talk. Besides, Sam was pretty tired anyway, so he just closed his eyes and rested his head against the window, drifting off to sleep within a few minutes.

**~~**

He didn’t wake up until Dean started tapping on his shoulder, the younger man startling slightly. “Whoa,” Dean muttered softly, holding his hands up as though he were surrendering. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to let you know that we’re here.” Pulling the keys from the ignition, Dean shoved the door open and started to climb out of the car. “If you want to hang back, I’ll just get us a room and meet you back here.”

“No, I want to come with you,” Sam explained, climbing out of the car and heading towards the lobby to check-in. It was cheaper to get a king-sized bed rather than two queens, but Sam didn’t mention it. After all, it wasn’t his place to tell Dean what kind of room to order. However, when the manager asked if Dean wanted a king or two queens, Sam nearly choked on his tongue when Dean got a king. Of course, Sam knew it probably didn’t mean anything, but the idea of sleeping In the same bed as Dean again was nice.

After their key was given to them and they were heading back to the car, Dean explained, “I hope you don’t mind that I got a king bed. It was just cheaper that way, and it made more sense. I mean, it’s big enough for both of us, right? Last night it was anyway.”

Nodding, Sam agreed, “Yeah, it’ll be fine.” At least that’s what they thought until they walked into the room. Apparently, when the manager said “king-sized bed,” he actually meant “queen-sized bed.” There was no way in hell he and Dean were going to both fit on that bed. Well, at least they weren’t going to be able to lay there and not touch each other like they had done the night before. Sam didn’t really care about that, but he was worried that Dean might.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly when he saw how small the bed was. So much for a king-sized bed. But they were already checked in and if Dean was being honest with himself, he didn’t mind having t sleep a little closer to Sam. As long as Sam didn’t mind, after all. “So…this bed might be a little smaller than the one we had last night,” he chuckled nervously, eyes ticking over to Sam to see what the younger man’s reaction would be.

Slowly, Sam nodded, glancing around the room and realizing there wasn’t a couch either, so if this bed was a problem, the only other option was the floor. “Yeah,” he managed, his eyes swinging to Dean’s as well. “I um…I can sleep on the floor if you want.”

That was the last thing he wanted. “Sammy, you don’t have to sleep on the floor,” Dean argued with a shake of his head. “We can both fit on this bed. I mean, as long as you don’t mind if our bodies are touching.” Again, Dean really didn’t see a problem there, though he knew that he probably should. After all, Sam was already taken; his father probably would have slapped him upside the head if he knew all of the dirty thoughts that were running through Dean’s head about Sam.

But then again, maybe not.

It wasn’t like John and Sam were an item. The last Dean had heard, Sam was more like a relative than a partner. So why the hell couldn’t Dean have these feelings for him?! Then again, Dean knew if that were really the case, he would tell Sam what he was feeling instead of tip-toe around the truth by purposely getting a king-sized bed and using the excuse that it was cheaper this way. Or he would have made a move on Sam already; deep down, Dean knew that it was wrong and that’s why he hadn’t done anything yet.

A small smile came to Sam’s lips when Dean spoke, the younger man giving his head a small shake. “I-I don’t mind,” he assured Dean, his head bowing slightly as a deep blush stained his cheeks at the admittance. “Um…should we unpack before we get some sleep?”

“I’m actually gonna take a shower,” Dean explained as he dropped his duffel onto the floor. He wasn’t really one to unpack, anyway; he never stayed in one place too long, after all. “Don’t worry, I won’t use up all of the hot water in case you want to jump in after me,” Dean promised with a wide smile before he disappeared into the bathroom, the door falling closed behind him.

Sam didn’t really want to shower. He’d just showered that morning, and it wasn’t like he’d gotten himself dirty in the car. Instead, Sam took the opportunity to strip out of his jeans and pull on a pair of sweat pants so he could sleep more comfortably. He then pulled off the hoodie he was wearing, stripping off the T-shirt he’d had under it as well. The bruises John had given him were still present, so Sam quickly tossed the hoodie back on, figuring it was comfortable enough for bed.

Once he had changed, Sam climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin before he grabbed the remote and turned on the television. It didn’t take long before Sam’s eyes were closing and his breathing evened out; he only stirred a little when Dean crawled under the blankets before he was in a deep sleep once again.

**~~**

“Amy, I can’t come over tonight,” Troy explained as he continued down the Centennial Highway, his high beams splitting through the darkness of the night. “Because I’ve got work in the morning, that’s why.” He laughed at his girlfriend’s next suggestion. “Yeah, okay, I miss it and my dad’s gonna have my ass.”

Suddenly, a high pitched whine rang through the car, dragging Troy’s attention to the radio before a figure on the side of the road caught his attention. It was a woman in a white dress moving as though she was dancing. However, she flickered briefly, disappearing completely for a moment before she reappeared.

Confused, Troy muttered, “Hey, Amy, let me call you back?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he ended the call and tossed the phone down, slapping the power button on the radio because it was now static and flickering. When nothing happened, he tried again and then again before finally just giving up on it as he pulled up next to the moan. As he leaned across the seat to speak to her, he noticed that her dress was torn in several places; she looked like she may be lost.

His eyes travelled over her body from head to toe, Troy rather appreciating the view. “Car trouble or something?” he asked, still admiring the white skin peeking out of the woman’s tattered dress.

There was a long pause as the woman sized up Troy, her eyes ticking over every part of the young boy before she finally answered, “Take me home?” A small smile came to her lips when Troy agreed, opening the passenger door for her so she could climb in, her bare feet barely pressing against the floor as she pulled the door closed.

Once she was inside, Troy tried not to stare too much, but he found it was a lot easier said than done. Amy would so kill him if she knew that he was having these thoughts about another woman. “So, where do you live?” he asked, trying to change the subject and stop thinking about how badly he wanted to get her out of that dress.

Not paying attention to Troy’s obvious staring, the woman answered, “At the end of Breckenridge Road.” She can tell without looking at the young man that he is staring at her – and that’s exactly what she wants. Hell, she _needs_ it.

Nodding, Troy couldn’t help that his eyes were traveling down to the woman’s _very_ low-cut dress. “You coming from a Halloween party, or something?” he asked, looking away from her cleavage and laughing nervously. “You know, a girl like you really shouldn’t be alone out here.”

Mournfully, the woman looked at him before her expression turned seductive and she started hiking her skirt up over her thighs, pressing the material between her knees. “I’m with you,” she reminded. When he looked away, the woman took his chin and turned his face towards her once more. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

Again, Troy’s eyes were stuck on her cleavage as he nodded. “Uh…huh,” was the only answer he could manage. 

“Will you come home with me?” she asked, the seductive tone still filling her voice.

She didn’t even have to ask. “Um, hell yeah,” he answered with a laugh before he pressed down on the gas pedal and drove off. They pulled up to an abandoned house at the end of a dirt road some time later, and Troy noticed that the woman was staring at it sadly. “Come on. You don’t live here,” he assured her.

Her eyes sadly roamed over the outside of the house, the woman leaning forward as she shook her head. “I can never go home,” she spoke softly, tears in her eyes.

Still unconvinced, Troy stared at the house through his windshield. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice annoyed. “Nobody even lives here. Where do you live?”

When he turned to look at her again, the woman was gone. Turning, he looked in the back, noticing that it was also empty. Nervously, he climbed out of the car, looking around the area. “That’s good. Joke’s over, okay?” This really wasn’t funny anymore. “You want me to leave?” Again, he looked around for signs of life, though he saw none; only crickets. “Hello? Hello?!”

Inside the house, there was a picture of the woman who had just been in his car and two children visible through the window. Dust covered the picture completely so it was obvious that no one lived there. Curiously, he peered through the hole in the screen door. Just as he did so, a bird flew at his face, scaring him so badly that he lost his footing. A loud shriek escaped him before he leapt to his feet and ran back to the car, yanking the door open and climbing in before he sped off towards Centennial Highway once more.

As he was driving, Troy glanced behind him to make sure nothing was there. It was silly, but it made him feel better. However, moments later, the woman appeared in the back seat. Again, Troy yelped in surprise and drove straight through a “Bridge Closed” sign as though the car had a mind of its own.

The car stopped halfway across the bridge and the sound of Troy’s screams carried through the night air before blood splattered across the windows and silence fell once more.

**~~**

Sam woke to the heavy weight of someone laying on him, the young man frowning in confusion as he slowly blinked open his eyes. For a moment, Sam forgot where he was, who he was with, and fear washed over him at the idea that John was in his bed again. Nothing good ever happened when John was in his bed. And Sam knew that if John was in one of his moods, he wasn’t going to be able to stop John from inflicting as much pain as he wanted upon him – that’s what scared Sam the most about his _master_.

However, when he became more aware of his surroundings, and the memories of what had happened the night before flooded in, Sam allowed himself to relax. He remembered that John was away on a hunt and Sam was staying with Dean.

It was just Dean.

He felt the older man shift, and Sam quickly closed his eyes, not ready to let Dean know that he was awake. After all, Sam had been staring at Dean a little because his shirt was riding up and that little slip of skin that was showing wasn’t something Sam could ignore. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted Dean to know he’d been staring.

The bed creaked and groaned as Dean shifted before pushing himself completely up. Dean had to take care of his business before he had an accident and relieved his bladder in the damn bed. He hadn’t wanted to get up because he was worried about waking Sam, but when duty calls, there really wasn’t much he could do about it.

Making sure to hurry up, Dean glanced at the clock and noticed that it was just past 8:00. He had wanted to head over to the library to get some more information about the disappearances in this town, but it didn’t open until 9:00; that gave him time for breakfast before he headed out.

Once he’d taken care of his morning routine, Dean headed out into the main room, smiling down at the still slumbering Sam. Gently, he took a seat on the bed and pushed Sam’s long bangs out of his face. “So beautiful,” he murmured softly, not realizing that he’d been speaking out loud until the words had already left his lips. But Sam was sleeping, so he had nothing to worry about.

Hell, maybe if he said the words out loud, these feelings wouldn’t nag at him so damn much!

Again, his fingers fund their way into Sam’s hair, curling around the luscious locks. “God, Sammy, I wish you weren’t with my father,” he confessed to his sleeping charge. “I want you to be with _me_ , dammit. And I fight the urge to take you every time I see you, and it’s so fucking hard – you have no idea, Sammy. But I could never…not when you’re with my dad. I mean, he loves you – you’re all he had now. What kind of a son would I be if I told you this and by some miracle you’d feel the same way? Dad wouldn’t have anyone then because he won’t hunt with me. He doesn’t need a partner.”

Wow, now that he got that off his chest, Dean actually felt a little better. It didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t have Sam, but at least those feelings stopped nagging at him…kind of. Slowly, he dipped his head and pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead before he pushed himself off the bed and started to get dressed, leaving once he had his leather jacket pulled on.

As soon as he was sure Dean was gone, Sam pushed himself into a seated position, ignoring the way his still aching body screamed in pain at the sudden movement. Sam couldn’t breathe. He finally had an answer to his question about Dean’s feelings for him, and he couldn’t make his lungs work.

A tear slid unbidden down Sam’s cheek, the younger man quickly wiping it away before he climbed off the bed. He needed to clear his mind. And since he couldn’t leave the room without Dean, the next best thing was a shower. Quickly, he scrambled to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Locks were prohibited for pleasure slaves, so Sam left the door unlocked, though he really didn’t want to.

Again, Sam took longer in the shower than he had t, allowing the hot water to cascade over his back and soothe his aching muscles. Tipping his head back, Sam opened his mouth and squeezed his eyes closed, allowing the water to beat into his mouth before he spit it back out and rubbed his face with his hands. He then started lathering the cheap motel shampoo in his hair, eyes closing once more to prevent the sudsy water sliding down his face from stinging his eyes.

So many questions were running through Sam’s head right now. If Dean really felt that way, why hadn’t he told Sam sooner? And how could Dean have such love and respect for a man who got off on hurting Sam? Of course, Dean couldn’t possibly know what John did to him when they were alone – no one knew. That’s probably what made it so damn easy for John to hurt him; there were no witnesses, and no one around to save him.

By the time Sam got out, Dean had already come back with breakfast and left again. There was a note on the take-out box holding his pancakes that read:

_Sammy,  
There was another disappearance last night out on Centennial Highway. I’m headed over to the library right now to get more information about a legend that’s popular in this town. I’ll be back later. If you need me, just call my cell; I’ll answer it.  
Dean_

Sighing, Sam opened the box and started in on his pancakes, not wanting to let them get cold before he finished them. Dean had even been thoughtful enough to get him coffee, which Sam greedily swallowed up. After all, John didn’t allow Sam to drink anything but water because that’s all a _pet_ drank.

Sometime later, Sam jolted awake to the sound of the motel phone ringing. Frowning at the device, Sam slowly moved towards it, unsure of what to do. If he would ever answer the phone in John’s room, Sam was sure he would be punished. But he was with Dean now, so maybe he should answer it. After all, it could be important.

Without giving it much more thought, Sam picked up the device, pressing it against his ear lightly. “Hello?” he asked, frowning deeply when Dean started explaining where he was and what had happened to him that day.

“Sammy, I got into a little bit of trouble,” Dean explained, eyeing the police station he’d just gotten away from. Luckily, something more exciting that Dean had come along, giving the young Winchester time to flee. His car was still at the motel where he had been grabbed, but he wasn’t too worried about that. After all, Sam was there to watch it.

He’d been about to head into the place to tell Sam what he’d found when the officer grabbed him. “Look, the Impala is outside the motel, and I tossed the keys inside her,” Dean continued. “Meet me at the abandoned house at the end of Breckenridge Road. This spirit, Constance Welch, she’s not just a spirit; she’s a woman in white. I need the stuff out of my trunk. I’ll see you when you get there, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes widened when Dean told him that he needed to meet him somewhere. “But Dean, I don’t know…” he started, his frown returning when he realized that Dean had hung up the phone already. “…how to drive.” John had promised that he would teach him, but then _the incident_ had happened, and Sam was rarely allowed to leave the house now.

His heart was pounding in his chest, but Sam knew that he had to just do it and not think about it. After all, Dean needed him help – that’s what he was here for. Besides, how hard could it possibly be to drive a car a few miles? Of course, Sam knew that Dean would probably kill him if he wrecked the Impala, but he wasn’t thinking about that either as he left the motel and climbed into the Impala, shoving the keys into the ignition and starting her up.

Okay, so driving was a little harder than Sam had originally figured, but on the bright side, he hadn’t wrecked the car…yet. Because he had been so worried about trying not to wreck the car, Sam hadn’t been paying attention to the road, and when he finally looked up, Sam had to slam on the brakes in an attempt to not run over the woman in the middle of the road.

His eyes squeezed tightly closed as a gust of coldness washed over him moments before the car came to a stop. Only when the car stopped did Sam open his eyes, and much to his surprise, the woman was gone. However, when he looked in the rear-view mirror, he saw Constance sitting in the back seat, a disapproving look on her face. “Take me home,” she instructed, her eyes boring holes into Sam’s through the mirror. When he didn’t answer, she glared menacingly at him before she ordered, “Take me home!”

Although he didn’t know much about women in white, Sam had done a little bit of research on them. And he knew that the last thing he wanted to do was take her home so she could kill him for thinking of being unfaithful. Yeah, he wasn’t going to do that. “N-No,” he answered, giving his head a small shake. 

Angrily, Constance continued to glare at Sam, obviously not liking his answer to her command. Before Sam knew what was happening, all of the doors locked and the car started moving on its own. It was annoying little trick spirits possessed, and Sam knew that he was screwed when he tried to pull the locks open, but they wouldn’t budge. Turning towards the steering wheel, Sam tried to steer the car in a different direction, but again, Constance was working that as well. He was trapped, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Once they pulled up outside of the abandoned house that Dean wanted him to meet him at, the car shut off, the lights flickering a moment before going off as well. “Don’t do this,” Sam pleaded, watching as Constance flickered in the back seat, her eyes roaming over the house.

Her voice was sad as she explained, “I can never go home.”

Seeing Constance look at the house in such a way and hearing the way her voice sounded, Sam finally understood why she brought people here, but never went inside. “You’re scared to go home,” he thought out loud, frowning softly when he looked back and saw that Constance was no longer there. His eyes darted around the car and around the space outside before they landed back on the passenger seat, Sam’s heart leaping in his chest when he saw Constance sitting next to him now. 

Before Sam even had a chance to react, Constance crawled into his lap, shoving his back against the seat so hard that it reclined back. He struggled in an attempt to get her away from him, but he was finding that it was useless, and he was just expending energy that he would probably need later if he wanted to get out of this alive.

“Hold me,” Constance begged, rubbing herself against Sam’s warm body. “I’m so cold.”

Constance continued to rub against Sam, even as the younger man struggled beneath her. He wasn’t going to let this happen. Sam knew that the only a woman in white could kill someone was if they were unfaithful – Sam wasn’t. “You can’t kill me,” he assured her, still struggling. “I’m not unfaithful. I’ve never been.” He groaned in pain as she continued to grind against him, gripping his hoodie and bunching up his clothes.

Her body moved faster than any human could as she leaned over Sam, whispering in his ear, “You will be. I know what you dream about at night. And just because you don’t act on it, doesn’t mean you aren’t being unfaithful.” Pulling back again, Constance crumpled Sam’s clothes again as she begged once more, “Just hold me.”

Roughly, Constance gripped Sam’s chin, forcing his face forward as she crushed their lips together, ignoring Sam’s struggles. He reached for the keys, but before he could get to them, Constance pulled back. Something hideous flashed behind her face before she disappeared, leaving Sam alone in the car. His eyes once again scanned the car, looking for Constance because he knew for a fact that she didn’t just leave.

A pained scream tore from Sam’s throat when he felt fingers moving through his flesh, scraping at his ribs in an attempt to get to his heart. He yanked his hoodie open and there were five burn holes in the outline of Constance’s fingers, Sam clawing at his hoodie in hopes that it would take his mind off the pain. Her form flickered in front of him, her fingers pressing deeper into Sam’s chest as he groaned once more.

Gun shots rang out, shattering the Impala’s window and startling Constance, though she didn’t remove her fingers from Sam’s chest. More shots split through the air and that hideous face flashed behind Constance’s own before she finally disappeared. However, she reappeared soon after, and was fired at again before she flickered away once more.

Now that she was no longer around, Sam sat up, ignoring the look on Dean’s face because he couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. Grabbing the keys, Sam spoke to the wind, “I’m taking you home.” Without another thought, Sam pressed down on the gas pedal, _hard_ , sending the car through the fence and into the house before he finally lets up.

“Sam!” Dean calls after him, running through the wreckage in an attempt to get at Sam. Moving to the passenger side door, Dean breathes, “Sam? You okay?”

Yeah, Sam thinks he’s fine, but he can’t be sure. “I think…” he mumbled, trying to move.

Dean’s way ahead of him, yanking the passenger door open, ready to pull Sam from the car if he needs to. “Can you move?”

Maybe? Wiggling his toes, Sam makes sure that everything is still in working order before he answers Dean. “Yeah. Help me?” Dean leans forward and extends his hand towards Sam, pulling the younger man out of the car and looking him over to make sure he’s not too badly hurt.

Meanwhile, Constance picked up the picture that Trey had been looking at a few nights earlier, frowning at the memory of the time when she and her children had taken the picture. Angrily, she glared at Sam and Dean, throwing the picture onto the floor. A large bureau scooted across the floor and pinned Sam and Dean to the car, and Constance started to advance on the two humans.

However, before she got too far, the lights flickered and she looked around the room, scared. Water suddenly began to pour down the stairs, and Constance moved there to get a better look. At the top of the stairs, the boy and the girl from the photograph link hands and speak in unison. “You’ve come home to us, Mommy.”

Distraught, Constance stares at her children. With another flash of the lights, the kids are behind Constance, their arms wrapping around the woman. A loud scream tore from Constance’s throat, energy surging in the room a moment before Constance and her children melt into a puddle on the floor. As soon as she was gone, Sam and Dean shoved the bureau off of them and walked over to the stairs, staring down at the water.

“So, this is where she drowned her kids?” Dean mumbled, frowning at the puddle as if it was going to come alive and grab his ankle or something.

Nodding, Sam explained, “That’s why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.” Actually, Sam was pretty proud of himself for figuring that out. Bobby always did tell him that he had potential, and Sam was starting to believe it.

A small smile came to Dean’s lips as he looked up at Sam, pride swelling inside him. “You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” His smile soon disappeared when he remembered that Constance had been trying to rip Sam’s heart out of his chest when he arrived, Dean gently gripping Sam’s upper arms as he turned the younger man around and started leading him to the car. “We gotta get you back to the motel so I can take a look at those injuries.”

**~~**

It took a little bit of effort to get the Impala out of the debris, but Dean managed it without much damage. There was a headlight out now, but Dean could fix that with his eyes closed when he had a free minute. Right now, he just wanted to get Sam back to the motel so he could patch him up. And no, it had nothing to do with the fact that he would get to see Sam without a shirt on – well, maybe not _nothing_ to do with it.

Once they pulled into the motel lot, Dean helped Sam into the room, closing and locking the door behind them before dumping salt in the doorway. No spirits were getting into this room, that was for sure. “All right, go ahead and sit down,” he instructed, grabbing the first aid kit from his duffel as Sam plopped onto the mattress. “Get your shirt off so I can see the damage.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Get your shirt off so I can see the damage._ The words rang through Sam’s head like a mantra, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. It wasn’t really that bad; Sam was sure he could take care of the injuries himself. But would Dean allow him to – that was the question. And as a pleasure slave, Sam wasn’t one to really argue about things. Especially after John had started abusing him. Before then, Sam would have been quicker to argue, but not now. Not after everything he’d been through.

Besides, Sam could always just blame the bruises on Constance. It wasn’t like Dean would know the difference, right?

Slowly, Sam unzipped the hoodie and allowed it to slide down his arms, biting into his bottom lip as he remembered the abrasions on his wrists from the restraints John had used on him. Maybe Dean wouldn’t see them. Yeah right; Sam didn’t think that was going to happen. Sighing, he pulled the shirt off his body, tossing it onto the floor beside the bed. This was it; Dean was going to see everything, and Sam needed to just hope that he could sell his story well enough to make Dean believe him.

When Dean saw Sam without his shirt on, his breath hitched in his throat. He’d imagined what it would be like to see Sam without his shirt on, but in his fantasies, Dean hadn’t imagined so many bruises. “Damn Sammy,” he breathed softly, moving closer to the bed before taking a seat, “she really got you good didn’t she?” He frowned softly when Sam merely chuckled and gave a small nod.

As Dean’s fingers ran over his skin, Sam shuddered, his breath picking up just a bit. Of course, he was still scared because Dean was paying a lot of attention to his injuries, and he was worried that Dean was going to figure out that Constance hadn’t been the culprit with all of them. But he couldn’t possibly know, could he? No one knew about what John did to him behind closed doors; John made sure of that. 

Upon closer inspection, Dean noticed that some of the bruises on Sam’s body were healing; there was no way it could have happened just tonight. “Sammy…what happened to you?” Dean asked, frowning deeply as he pushed Sam back against the bed so he could get a better look at the injuries on the man’s body.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, squawking with surprise when Dean shoved him back against the bed. "Dean, don’t,” Sam mumbled softly, giving his head a small shake as the hunter took his arm in his hand and looked at the marks marring Sam’s wrists. “It was C-Constance. She did this to me tonight when we were in the car.”

Shaking his head, Dean argued, “Bull shit, Sam. I know what healing bruises look like and you’re covered with them.” Angrily, he showed Sam his own wrist, continuing, “And she didn’t have you tied down. These are abrasions from being bound. Now stop lying to me and tell me what the hell happened to you.”

There was no way out of it. Sam had to tell Dean the truth and just hope that Dean believed him. Honestly, Sam didn’t think Dean was going to believe him. And Sam wouldn’t have been surprised if Dean called John and John came rushing back for Sam so he could take him somewhere and punish him for speaking. Needless to say, Sam was a little scared – hell, he was _a lot_ scared. “It was John,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Dean’s eyes widened when Sam told him that John had done this. No, that wasn’t possible – John wouldn’t hurt Sam. But would Sam lie about something like this? Dean wasn’t so sure. Besides, the proof was right there – Sam had bruises that were at least two days old, and Sam had only had contact with John before he came to stay with Dean. There was no one else who could have done this to him. Dean just had to face the facts – his father was an abusive bastard. “What’s he been doing to you?” he asked, needing to know just how sick his father was.

Shocked by Dean’s question, Sam slowly shook his head, biting into his bottom lip. “You don’t want to know,” he assured Dean. Sam knew how close Dean was to his father, so he didn’t want to tell the other man about all of the sick, dirty things John had done to him over the past year. However, when Dean grabbed his upper arm and pulled him in close, Sam gasped, unsure of what was going on.

He hadn’t meant to do it. Hell, Dean was just going to get up and walk away, but instead, his hand shot out and he was grabbing Sam, pulling the younger man closer. “Please,” he whispered, licking his lips as his pained gaze met Sam’s. “Please, just tell me. I need to know.” Why? Dean wasn’t exactly sure – he just _needed_ to know.

It wasn’t hard to see the desperation in Dean’s eyes when he begged Sam to tell him what John had done to him. Hell, Sam wasn’t even sure where to start? “He rapes me,” Sam explained, figuring that he’d just start with the worst and go from there; maybe it would give Dean time to adjust to the news. “He ties me up and he forces me to have sex with him. Or he forces me to…suck him off – whichever one he’s in the mood for.” Biting in his lip, Sam ran his fingers over the bruises. “And then there are the beatings. They’re constant. Any time he thinks I deserve a punishment, he beats me. Sometimes, I think he just sets me up to fail so he can hurt me.”

Tears burned behind his eyes and caused his throat to close up as he listened to Sam tell him how much of an asshole his father was. “How long has he been doing this to you?” Dean asked, swallowing back the emotion that was welling up inside him. 

Swallowing thickly, Sam glanced at Dean before he answered, “About a year.” He could see the emotion playing across Dean’s face and it broke his heart. This was the last thing that he’d wanted to happen. But Dean had asked for it, Sam supposed, so he couldn’t be too upset. Then again, he was upset – very upset.

Dean couldn’t hold back the dry chuckle that escaped his throat when Sam answered him. “A year?” he asked, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you call me, Sammy?! I would have come to get you!” And he would have, too – that wasn’t a lie. Honestly, Dean was a little scared of the lengths he was willing to go to for Sam. 

The only answer Dean received was a small shake of Sam’s head. Sam didn’t know why he didn’t call Dean for help. He believed that the other man would have come for him, but he just couldn’t call. Deep down, he hadn’t wanted to ruin Dean’s view of his father – to break up their family because they didn’t have much left of it. A tear slid down his cheek slowly as he whispered, “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Without thinking, Dean reached forward and wiped the tear off Sam’s face, giving his head another small shake. “Shhh…it’s okay, Sammy,” he whispered softly. Well, it wasn’t actually okay, but Dean was going to make sure that it was okay in the near future. He wasn’t going to let Sam get hurt anymore. Dean was going to protect Sam no matter what.

Although he tried to stop them, more tears slipped from Sam’s eyes unbidden, the younger man’s shoulder’s shaking with sobs. “I’m sorry,” Sam apologized once more, shaking his head. “I just…don’t want to go back there. I’m scared of him, Dean.” And there was the cold hard truth. Sam hadn’t allowed himself to admit it before, but now he just didn’t care – he was _scared_ of John Winchester.

Quickly, Dean pulled Sam against his chest, rubbing down Sam’s back in an attempt to comfort him. “Shh…Sammy, you’re all right? Listen to me, okay? I’m not going to let him take you back. You’re gonna stay with me until I can figure something else out. Are you…okay with that?” If Sam wanted to stay with Bobby or someone, Dean would understand. After all, Dean’s father had been the one abusing Sam.

Sam didn’t even hesitate as he nodded, letting Dean know that he wanted to stay there with him. Hell, more than that – Sam would have bargained his soul to stay here with Dean. He didn’t think as he pulled back a little before crushing his lips against Dean’s, moaning softly as the taste of Dean exploded over his lips. 

On more than one occasion, Sam had wanted to kiss Dean, to know what it felt like to have those sinfully plush lips on his mouth, and now he knew that it was better than he could have ever imagined. And Dean didn’t seem to be pushing him away, actually pulling him closer and Sam couldn’t help but moan again, his lips parting as Dean’s tongue traced the seam, begging for entrance. 

Just as Sam was getting into it, Dean pulled back, his breaths panting out and mixing with Sam’s own panted breaths. “Sammy, wait,” he breathed, giving his head another shake. “We can’t do this. I don’t want to make you think that you have to—”

“I don’t think that I have to do anything,” Sam promised, interrupting Dean. Licking his lips, Sam confessed, “I heard what you said this morning. I wasn’t really sleeping. And I want that too, Dean. Please…just stop thinking about what he wants and just…take what you want for a change.” 

It was out of line for a pleasure slave to speak that way, but Sam didn’t care. He was tired of being quiet and just taking whatever was dished out to him. Sam wanted Dean right now and he knew that Dean felt the same way. There was no problem that he could see other than Dean trying to back out, and Sam wasn’t going to let him do that without a fight.

Luckily, Dean didn’t seem to mind his outburst, the older man gripping Sam’s upper arms tightly and pulling him against his body once more, their lips smashing together so roughly that their teeth clinked against each other’s. But Sam didn’t even care as Dean pushed him down against the mattress, Dean’s free hand that wasn’t holding most of his weight off Sam exploring Sam’s muscled body. Fuck, it felt good. Still, Sam wanted more. He wanted _all_ of Dean.

Sam pushed Dean off of him, rolling so that he was on top, now. Crawling down Dean's body, Sam stopped once his head was positioned between Dean's legs. Again, he licked his lips, pressing a kiss to each of Dean's inner thighs, teasing him before the real fun happened.

Dean let his legs drop open as he watched Sam kneel between his legs. He knew what was going to happen, and he was more than willing to allow it. Again, he moaned as Sam's mouth was on him again, pressing kisses to his thighs. His hands went to the bedsheets, grabbing them in a white knuckled grip as he was relentlessly tortured, waiting for Sam to get with the program. "Sam, come on, stop teasing," he complained, biting his bottom lip once more.

Again, Sam smiled, running his hands over Dean's legs, his fingers coming so close to touching Dean's throbbing erection before he pushed them upwards, running them along Dean's abdomen instead. Again, he smiled as he heard Dean almost whimper. Finally, Sam couldn't stand to tease anymore, needing to taste Dean almost as badly as he needed to breathe it felt.

With another smile, Sam grasped the base of Dean's shaft, lowering his head to take Dean's cock deep in his mouth, humming around its length. Dean gasped as he felt Sam's mouth devour his cock. It took all the strength he had not to buck his hips and drive his aching erection deeper into his lover's willing mouth. "Oh, God...Sam," Dean moaned, biting his bottom lip as he tried so desperately to hold still. 

Sam pulled back, running his tongue along the underside of Dean's cock before circling it around the tip. Again, he took his lover inside, but just the crown, sucking hard, drawing yet another moan out of Dean. Opening his mouth wide, Sam took Dean deep again, hollowing out his cheeks and swallowing, letting Dean feel his throat work against the tip of his cock before bobbing his head up and down, his hand jacking the lower part of Dean's shaft that he couldn't fit into his mouth.

Finally, Dean couldn't take it anymore, and he had to move. Slowly, he brought his hand to the back of his lover's head, pushing him down further, forcing his cock deeper. He could tell when Sam just stopped moving all together and let him do all the work, but that was fine. As long as Sam was sucking, he was okay with anything else. Again, he moaned as he felt Sam's free hand cupping his balls, rolling them between his fingers.

Sam kept sucking and teasing Dean's cock with his lips and tongue, hand gently squeezing Dean's sac until he could feel that Dean was close. He stopped then, not wanting his lover to cum just yet. Pulling off Dean's cock, Sam smiled up at his lover, loving the way he looked right now. He then crawled up his lover's body, grabbing his shoulder and rolling so that Dean lay on top of him. "Fuck me, Dean," he begged, grinding his cock against Dean's spit-slick member.

Dean dipped his head, capturing his lover's lips with his own. Slowly, he ran his hands down Sam's sides, gripping his hips and pulling his lover's ass off the bed, kneading the firm flesh. Breaking the kiss for air, he brought his right hand back up his lover's body, his left still groping Sam's ass. Gently, he placed his index and middle fingers at Sam's mouth, letting him know he wanted him to suck on them. Sam did as he was silently told, wrapping his tongue around them before Dean pulled them away.

Again, Dean trailed his hand down Sam's body, careful not to touch him with his wet fingers. Once his hand was at his lover's ass again, Dean slowly spread Sam's ass cheeks, eliciting a small moan from Sam. "Shhh...I got you, Sam," he whispered, pushing one of his fingers past the tight ring of muscle at Sam's entrance, pushing in slowly. 

Sam gasped as his lover's index finger breached him, moaning softly as Dean moved his finger in and out of Sam's hole. "Dean..." he moaned, pushing his hips down as Dean's finger worked him, needing to feel Dean inside him. Again, he moaned as Dean added a second finger, gripping Dean's shoulder as he felt his lover's fingers scissoring inside of him, opening him for what was to come. Sam threw his head forward, letting it fall to the crook of Dean's neck, his hot breath fanning over Dean's neck and shoulder as he gasped from the sensations running through him. 

Slowly, Dean pulled his fingers from his lover's ass, holding his hips in place as he slid his cock inside Sam's stretched hole. He made sure to go slow, sliding himself in inch by inch until he was buried balls deep so he didn't hurt Sam. It was so hard to hold still when he felt Sam's ass clenching around him. But he knew he had to. He had to give Sam time to adjust to the invasion before he just mindlessly fucked him.

Sam could see how much strain Dean was putting on himself as he tried not to move. Tried to give Sam time to adjust to his full length inside of him. As he began to get used to the invasion, he rocked his hips a little, testing the waters, so to speak. Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah, Dean, come on, move."

Sam didn't have to tell Dean twice. As soon as he heard the word 'move,' he pulled almost completely out before thrusting back inside, setting a good rhythm. He moaned as he felt Sam's short, blunt fingernails dig into his shoulders. "Are you okay, Sam?" he asked, trying to be as gentle as possible. He knew Sam wasn't used to this, and that he was going to have to take it slow, but it was just so damn hard. And, really, it was all Sam's fault for being so fucking hot when he's in bed. 

Letting out the breath that he had been holding, Sam nodded again, pulling on Dean's shoulders to get him closer as he rocked his hips, pushing his ass further down onto Dean's hard cock inside of him. "Y-Yeah, Dean, I'm fine." He moved his arms so that his left arm was on Dean's back, palm flat in the center of it while his right arm wrapped around Dean's neck, long digits tangling in his short hair. "I need you, Dean. Please?" Roughly, Sam pulled Dean's head downwards, locking their lips with brutal force. "Please, Dean?" Sam begged as he broke the kiss, only to do it again, their teeth clacking together as Sam tried to devour him.

He didn't know what Sam wanted, and it pissed him off. As the kiss was broken again, Dean looked into Sam's eyes, seeing that his lover was pretty much taken over by his need for Dean. "Sam, what do you need?" he asked, hoping to get through to his lover. Slowly, he dipped his head, kissing Sam's neck. "This?" he asked, allowing his lips to barely touch Sam's skin again, smiling as he heard his lover moan. 

Removing his right hand from Sam's hip, he drug it across Sam's lower abdomen, slowly making his way to his lover's throbbing erection. Once his hand was where he wanted it, Dean wrapped his fingers around Sam's hard shaft, slowly stroking him, rubbing his thumb over Sam's slit before pivoting his wrist and sliding his hand back down. "Or is this what you want, Sam?" he asked, dropping his head so he could kiss Sam's collarbone. 

"Ungh...Dean," Sam moaned, pushing the hand that was resting on Dean's back down, effectively pressing Dean's body closer to his. "Harder, Dean," he ordered, feeling his release coming quickly with every stroke of Dean's skilled hand. 

Dean nodded, bracing himself by placing the hand that wasn't working his lover on the bed beside Sam's head. He thrust his cock in deeper, angling his hips so the tip of his dick hit Sam's prostate, smiling as he heard his lover moan in approval. With each thrust, the bed moved with them, slamming off the wall before moving back down to do it again in time with Dean's brutal pace. Sam's hands were back on Dean's shoulders now, and they were holding on with bruising force, making Dean want to swat them away. However, when he felt hot threads of cum hit his chest and stomach, he was too far gone to do anything but ride out the waves of his own orgasm, Sam's name falling from his lips before he collapsed onto his lover's chest.

Sam was still gasping for breath when he felt Dean roll off him, slinging his arm over his waist and pulling him up against his body. He smiled as he felt Dean's lips press a soft kiss to his neck, just below his ear. "I love you," Dean whispered, kissing Sam's cheek. And he was actually surprised that he’d let the words slip from his lips, but there was nothing he could do about it now but wait for Sam’s response. He just hoped that he hadn’t moved too fast with that one.

A small, shocked gasp escaped Sam when Dean told him that he loved him. Well, that was…unexpected, though certainly not unwelcome. "I love you, too," Sam said, grabbing his shirt and wiping the evidence of his and Dean's release off their bodies. He then grabbed the sheets and pulled them over them, closing his eyes and falling asleep the way it should be. In the arms of the man that he actually _wanted_ to be with – not someone he was _forced_ to be with.

**~~**

The sound of Dean’s phone had Sam jolting awake, the younger man frowning softly at the device. He could see on the screen that it was John calling, a chill running through his body that had nothing to do with the fact that he was naked in this chilly motel room. “Dean,” he mumbled softly, jarring the other man from his sleep. “John’s calling you.” 

As Dean answered the phone, Sam crawled out of the bed and moved to the bathroom, not wanting to listen to their conversation. The very thought of John had him shivering, and judging by the timeline of how long he had been with Dean, John was probably on his way to get Sam back. Well, Dean had promised that he wasn’t going to let John take him, so Sam was opting to trust Dean. After all, Dean had done nothing to not have his trust. And if he truly loved him like he said he did, Dean would fight to keep him by his side.

Still, Sam couldn’t help the nagging feeling that John was somehow going to get him back. Sam knew better than anyone else just how cruel and manipulative John could be. And the last thing Sam wanted was for Dean to get hurt because he was trying to protect him. He couldn’t allow that to happen – he’d go back to John first.

Sighing, Sam reached into the shower and started the water, relieving his bladder before stepping into the water’s warm spray. He barely had time to get his shampoo rinsed out of his hair before he felt hands gripping his hips and pulling him back against a solid body. At first, Sam gasped in a shocked breath and tensed, wondering if John had somehow gotten past Dean and was here to hurt him.

His fears were soon crushed when he heard Dean shush him softly as his lips trailed over Sam’s shoulder. “Mmm…” Sam moaned softly, one hand reaching back to card his fingers through Dean’s short-cropped hair. “What did John want?” He didn’t really want to know what the other man wanted, but he kind of had to. There was a compelling need inside him that made him ask the question and Sam couldn’t make his mouth close before the words were out.

“He wanted to know where we were,” Dean explained without hesitation, his hand slowly rubbing over Sam’s belly as his lips sucked the beads of water off Sam’s neck and shoulders. “I told him that he could meet us here in Jericho.” Feeling Sam tense, Dean shushed him once more, turning Sam’s head so he could press their lips together. “We’re already going to be at Bobby’s place before he gets here,” Dean assured him. “I told you, I’m not going to let him take you away from me. Not without a fight.”

Sam visibly released the breath that he had been holding when Dean assured him that they weren’t going to be there when John arrived, nodding to let Dean know he’d been listening. “Does-Does Bobby know about what John’s been doing to me?” Sam asked, biting into his bottom lip as he waited for the answer. He didn’t know how he would feel is Bobby was aware of the abuse that his body had taken. Honestly, it was rather embarrassing.

Slowly, Dean shook his head, taking time to mouth at Sam’s shoulder once more. “No, he doesn’t know everything,” he explained. “I just told him that you were being mistreated and I was going to be taking over for your care for the time being.” Of course, Bobby didn’t see Sam as an object either, so Dean hadn’t exactly used those same words when he was explaining to the other man. But Sam seemed like he needed to be spoken to as if he were someone’s property. After all, being a pleasure slave would do that to you, Dean supposed.

Again, Sam nodded. “What about everything else?” Sam asked, suddenly feeling very curious. “Does he know that you and I are together now?” His cheeks burned red when he realized what he had just said. “I mean…are we together? After last night, I just assumed, but m-maybe I’m wrong?”

A small chuckle escaped Dean when Sam started babbling, the older man giving his head a small shake. “Sammy, you’re not wrong,” he promised, pulling Sam closer to him as if to reassure Sam. “You and I are definitely together. But…you have to understand that I can’t…treat you like he did – even before he started being nasty. He treated you well, sure, but you were still a slave to him. He let you believe that you had to follow your training, and he didn’t teach you anything about hunting – I’m not going to be that way. If you want to be with me, you’re going to learn how to hunt. And you’re not going to have to be like a slave with me.”

Licking his lips, Dean reached out with the hand that wasn’t stroking Sam’s belly and punched in the security code to Sam’s collar, yanking it off Sam’s neck as soon as it beeped and the little red light switched to green. “And you’re not going to wear one of those either,” he continued, tossing the black leather garment out of the shower and into the waste basket.

Unbidden tears came to Sam’s eyes when Dean took off his collar. It had been so long since he’d been free of the thing and he had almost forgotten what it was like to have it off. “Thank you,” he whispered softly, pressing his lips to Dean’s once more as he turned in his lover’s grip.

The smile that came to his lips couldn’t be helped as Dean kissed Sam back, his hands sliding up and down his lover’s back, moaning softly as Sam nipped his lower lip. “All right, knock it off,” he mumbled when the kiss broke. “We don’t have time for anything in here, as much as I want to. But if you keep doing that, we’re going to _make_ time. And then John might get here before we get out of here, and I don’t want to have to deal with him just yet.”

At the mention of John getting there before they could make a break for it, Sam’s eyes widened slightly. He didn’t waste any time as he turned back towards the spray and scrubbed himself down quickly, all but ignoring Dean as the hunter did the same to his own body. They would have time to explore each other’s bodies in another shower when they weren’t on a time limit, Sam was sure, so he wasn’t too worried about this missed opportunity.

**~~**

Once Sam and Dean had gotten out of the shower, they quickly tossed their bags into the trunk of the Impala and headed off towards Bobby’s salvage yard. The older hunter knew they were on their way, so Dean didn’t bother calling, figuring Bobby would know their approximate arrival time without the head’s up. Bobby was good at that sort of thing.

As they drove, Sam snuggled up against Dean’s side and took a nap. Although he’d gotten a good night’s sleep the night before, he had to make up for all that lost time when he had been with John. And it wasn’t like Dean was talking to him, the radio turned up as loud as Sam could stand it. Dean wasn’t a talker while on the road, so Sam didn’t take offense to it. Besides, Dean was warm and the way he held Sam made him feel safe. Sam needed that right now – especially after all of the changes that had happened over the last few days.

He’d hunted his first spirit, he’d had consensual sex, and he was no longer wearing his collar. Sam’s neck still tingled where the leather had been, reminding him that it was no longer there. He had to admit, he kind of liked the feeling. 

Only when they arrived at the salvage yard did Dean wake Sam, smiling down at his lover when Sam blinked up at him with sleepy eyes. “C’mon baby, we’re here,” he explained softly, pushing his door open and climbing out once Sam had sat up. Bobby was on the front porch watching them as Dean grabbed their bags and it made Sam a little uncomfortable, though he didn’t mention it or even show any signs that he was slightly distressed.

After both men received a gruff hug in greeting, Bobby had them sitting at the kitchen table and was making them both dinner. Sam wasn’t really hungry, but he didn’t want to upset Bobby by not eating the offered hamburger, so he ate it all, thanking Bobby when he was finished. “Um…do you care if I go to bed?” Sam finally asked as Bobby and Dean were having a beer and chatting about a hunt that was possibly in Dean’s future.

“Sammy, you don’t have to ask to go to bed,” Dean smiled, rubbing his hand up and down Sam’s arm soothingly. Damn, Dean never really understood how much his father had broken Sam until the obedient little slave was placed in a confusing situation. Sam knew how to act around Dean, but when Bobby was thrown into the mix, everything went to hell, apparently and Sam reverted back to his training.

A small smile came to Sam’s lips as the nickname and the way Dean was rubbing his arm. “Okay,” he whispered, letting Dean know he understood his mistake before he pushed himself up and headed to the stairs. He knew all about the spare bedroom up there and he had actually spent a few nights there when he’d been in Bobby’s care. He knew that the bed wasn’t big, and he actually felt his cock twitching with the knowledge; he and Dean were going to have to practically lay on top of one another if they wanted to be comfortable, and Sam was perfectly fine with that.

As soon as Sam was out of the room, Bobby placed his beer on the coffee table as he leaned towards Dean, his eyes locking with the other hunter’s. “So, what’s really goin’ on here?” he asked, not having bought Dean’s explanation that John was having him watch Sam for a few days while he took a break. “John wouldn’t leave Sam with you so he could get away from him for a few days. And I know he’s coming back from a hunt because he called me after you did, ya idjit.”

Busted. Dean knew that the only way to get out of this was to tell the truth, as much as he didn’t want to. “Sam’s with me now,” Dean explained simply, giving a small one-shouldered shrug. The look on Bobby’s face told Dean that wasn’t enough. “Dad’s been mistreating Sam,” he finally admitted. “He has bruises all over him and Sam’s scared to death to go back with him. So I’m taking care of him now and I’m keeping him away from Dad until I can figure this out.”

Sighing, Bobby gave his head a small shake as he pressed his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose. The last time Sam had come to stay with him, Bobby had suspected something, but he hadn’t done anything about it. Now he felt like a real asshole. Leaning forward a moment before he stood, Bobby explained. “We’re going to need the good stuff for this.” He returned to the living room a moment later with a bottle of Jack, pouring Dean a shot before he poured himself one too. “Now, tell me everything, and then we can come up with a way to keep Sam with you for good.”


	4. Chapter 4

After hearing everything that John had done to Sam, Bobby was glad that he’d grabbed the good stuff before he let Dean disclose the details. He almost couldn’t believe that John, who had been a good friend of his for years, would do something like this to Sam. But he supposed that you never really knew someone until something happened and their true selves were revealed. Bobby wasn’t sure he liked this new side of John that had just been revealed. “You know he’s going to come here for him, right?” Bobby asked, brows quirking up at the hunter sitting across from him.

Did he know that John was coming for them? That was the dumbest question that had ever come out of Bobby’s mouth. “Yes, I know,” he assured the other man. But what could he do about it? Sam was scared out of his mind, and Dean wasn’t going to let John take him away. He knew how he would deal with this if his father wasn’t the asshole – he’d just kick his ass and threaten to do worse if he ever saw him again. But could he do that to his father? Dean honestly didn’t think he could.

Sighing, Dean downed the rest of his drink, placing the glass down once he was finished. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do about it.” Rubbing his neck, Dean continued, “I do know one thing: John isn’t getting anywhere near Sam again. I don’t want to have to hurt him, but I will if he tries to hurt Sam.” And much to Dean’s surprise, he was telling the truth. He knew that his father would ask if he was going to choose a pleasure slave over his own blood, and Dean knew now that’s exactly what he was going to do. Because Sam needed someone to protect him from John, and Dean was happy to be that person.

Again, Dean sighed, not wanting to get into another huge conversation with Bobby about what he was willing to do for Sam. “I think I’m just gonna head up and deal with this all tomorrow,” he mumbled, pushing himself out of his chair and moving towards the stairs. Sam was probably sleeping by now, which kind of bummed Dean out, but he knew that the young hunter needed to get some sleep. He’d been through a lot, and Dean was honestly a little surprised that Sam wasn’t broken. 

Dean had read about the _toys_ some people had and they took pleasure in breaking them. He’d actually worked a case like that once where the _masters_ were demons. It was a bad scene, but he managed to get the slaves out of the situation and he felt damn proud of himself for doing it. Now, he was dealing with the same thing only the demon was his blood – his family. Dean hated that Sam had to go through this, and he hated that Sam hadn’t told him when it first started happening, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it now, so he just needed to let it go.

Once he was in the spare bedroom, he kicked off his boots and pulled his socks off before stripping out of his jeans and tossing his shirt on the growing pile of clothing. Now only clad in his boxers, Dean climbed into the bed behind Sam, his arm wrapping around the younger man’s waist as his nose nuzzled in the long strands of hair at the nape of Sam’s neck. “Sammy,” he breathed softly, pressing his lips against Sam’s neck. “You awake, baby?”

A soft moan escaped Sam when Dean started to kiss and caress him, his body turning slowly so that he was facing Dean as a smile came to his lips. “Yeah,” he answered, leaning in and brushing his lips against Dean’s. “What did Bobby say?” Sam really wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but there was that nagging need inside him telling him that he did want to know. “Is he going to help us?” Without Bobby’s help, they were pretty much dead in the water. 

“Yeah, he’s going to help,” Dean assured Sam before his lips were closing over his lover’s once more, Dean nipping Sam’s bottom lip before his tongue plunged between Sam’s lips, tangling with Sam’s own. Slowly, he rolled them so that he was lying on top of Sam, giving his head a small shake as he ground his hips down against Sam’s. “Let’s not worry about John right now,” he suggested, nipping Sam’s lip once more. “Just…think about me. About us.”

Well, Sam had absolutely no problem with that, a small moan tearing from his throat as he pushed his body up against Dean’s, rubbing their groins together. “Y-Yeah,” Sam mumbled, his breaths hitching in his throat as he pulled Dean down to kiss him, fingers tangling in Dean’s short-cropped hair. “I can definitely do that. Just kiss me…t-touch me,” he whispered, grabbing one of Dean’s hands and shoving it down towards his aching cock, which was still trapped in his sweat pants. “Please, Dean…”

Pressing another soft kiss to Sam’s shoulder, Dean wrapped his hand around his lover’s cock, stroking slowly, almost teasingly. “Sammy, s’okay,” he mumbled softly before crushing their lips together again. “M’gonna take care of you, baby – promise.” He pulled his hands away slightly, pushing Sam’s boxers and sweat pants down before sliding down Sam’s body, getting the fabric off Sam’s ankles and tossing it onto the pile of dirty clothes he’d left on the floor when he came in. Once he’d kicked off his boxers as well, Dean climbed back onto the bed and positioned himself over Sam again. “Gonna take care of you,” he whispered once more. “You gonna let me?”

As soon as Sam gave him the go-ahead to take what he wanted, Dean didn’t hesitate any longer. Quickly, he reached for the nightstand beside the bed and pulled the top drawer open, fingers wrapping around the lube the minute he felt it touching his skin. 

He wasted no time popping the cap off the tube and coating his fingers with the gel. Sam’s leg was thrown over Dean’s shoulder a few seconds later and Dean’s fingers were teasing at the younger man’s hole, letting Sam get used to his presence. Dean soon realized this wasn’t how he wanted to take Sam this time. Lube could be used later, but Dean wanted to try something else before that happened.

Dean smiled down at Sam for a brief moment before he pulled his fingers away from Sam’s ass and dipped his head. His lips pressed against the juncture where Sam’s thigh met his groin, sucking the skin into his mouth and nipping at it gently. God, he would have given anything to bite harder – to make Sam scream with both pleasure and pain – but he wouldn’t. That would have been too dangerous; Sam may have gotten scared, and that’s the last thing he wanted. Slowly, his lips moved inwards, kissing and sucking every inch of Sam’s flesh he could reach. It was no secret that Sam tasted amazing and Dean couldn’t hold back the deep groans that were spilling from his throat. 

Finally, Dean reached his destination, sucking just the head of Sam’s cock into his mouth. He smiled around his lover’s member when the small action had Sam moaning and arching his back off the mattress, pushing his lower body towards Dean in a silent plea for the other man to take more of him in. And what kind of a partner would Dean be if he didn’t oblige? His movements were slow, taking Sam’s length into his mouth inch by inch because he hadn’t done this in a while. Dean only sucked men’s dicks when he thought they were worth it, and not many met the criteria

“Oh fuck…Dean, please?” Sam begged, one hand moving to the back of Dean’s head, and pushing him down gently, getting Dean to take more of his cock into his mouth. Dean pushed his hand away after a few seconds, but Sam didn’t think too much of it. After all, Dean was controlling and Sam was aware of that. So Sam fisted his hands in the sheets beneath him instead, moaning softly once more as Dean rolled his balls in his palm, giving Sam more pleasure than he had felt in a really long time. John certainly had never made him feel this good.

Although Dean knew that Sam was so hard he could cut glass and could explode at any moment, he didn’t want to stop. It was pure will-power that helped him pull off Sam’s dick, not wanting the younger man to cum prematurely. He still had plans for Sam, after all, and that would have all been ruined if Sam came right now. Slowly, he kissed a trail from Sam’s cock downwards, lips pressing against Sam’s balls briefly before he kissed Sam’s perineum and traveled lower still.

Once he was low enough, Dean pressed his thumbs between Sam’s ass cheeks, spreading them wide before he dipped his head, tongue pressing against Sam’s tightly puckered hole as another small moan broke from him. He knew this was going to be better than lube. It was more personal and that’s exactly what he wanted for his and Sam’s intimate relationship. Sam’s taste was so much better here, too – musky and some flavor Dean could only describe as _Sam_. This was something he had never done before. No one had ever seemed worthy enough to make him want to prepare them with his tongue. Sam was different though and Dean wanted to make sure the younger man knew it. 

Again, Sam arched off the mattress when Dean swiped his tongue over his hole. Sam was new to all of this and Dean knew it, and somehow Dean managed to be able to make Sam feel so damn good without even trying. It kind of made Sam wonder how many times Dean had done this before; surprisingly, just thinking about it made Sam jealous. “Ungh…Dean, oh God, yes, please, babe,” Sam babbled, head tossing on the pillow beneath him. If Dean kept this up, there was no way Sam would be able to hold back his orgasm. “Please…stop…just….do it already. Gonna make me cum too early, Dean.”

Pulling his head back, Dean frowned down at Sam, trying to understand what the younger man was trying to tell him. One minute Sam was begging for him to keep going and now he was begging him to stop and just get on with it, which wasn’t going to happen. Sam wasn’t prepared enough for Dean’s liking. “No, you’re not ready yet,” Dean explained, still frowning at Sam. “I don’t wanna hurt you.” Again, he dipped his head, ready to continue what he had been doing moments earlier.

Before Dean could get back to what he’d been doing, Sam pushed his head back, closing his legs as much as he could with the hold Dean still had on him. “No, stop it,” he mumbled with a small shake of his head. “I _am_ ready. I think I would know that a little better than you, don’t you think? No offense, but it’s my body.” Quickly, Sam sat up, pushing Dean back onto his ass so he could sit on his lap. “Just get the lube and do what you have to, but I don’t want to wait too long, and I don’t want to cum too early and mess this up.”

When Sam manhandled him like that, Dean growled in frustration, not done with his work on the younger man. “Sammy,” he groaned once he had Sam in his lap, head falling between his shoulder blades. Another growl escaped him as Sam started nipping and sucking at his flesh. He was probably leaving marks behind and Dean didn’t even care. Sam was pressing down on Dean’s aching member and there was no way Dean could deny that he wanted Sam as much as Sam wanted him right now. He supposed he could always try his original plan with Sam some other time. They both needed this too much for either of them to enjoy stretching it out any longer at the moment.

Without giving it another thought, Dean moved with practiced speed and had Sam flat on his back once more. He quickly grabbed the lube and slicked up his fingers, slowly pushing one past the tight ring of muscle that was still wet with his saliva, which made it easier for Dean to get his finger in. Sam groaned in pleasure and Dean soon added another finger, scissoring the digits teasingly inside the younger man, opening him for his cock.

As soon as Sam started pushing back against his fingers, Dean added a third, just to make sure Sam was well-prepared. It wasn’t long after that he was pulling his fingers away and replacing them with his lube-slick cock, slowly pushing into Sam’s stretched hole. Both men’s moans and groans mingled as well as their breaths as Sam crushed his lips against Dean’s, mouth opening instantly to allow Dean’s tongue inside. Dean was exuding all of his will-power to hold still so Sam could get used to the invasion, but the younger man wasn’t making it easy with the way he was clenching around Dean’s dick, making Dean just want to pound into Sam’s tight body. But he waited, knowing that if he moved too soon there was a chance he could hurt Sam, which was the last thing he wanted.

After a few more minutes, Dean rolled his hips, smiling down at Sam when the younger man moaned in pleasure, eyes squeezed tightly closed. That was his cue that Sam was ready for him to move. Dean pulled his hips back so that his dick was almost all the way out of Sam before slowly pushing back in, gritting his teeth as pleasure surged through him. The way Sam was clenching and unclenching around him and the way that Sam was holding onto him, one leg wrapped tightly around Dean’s waist, was really turning him on. His thrusts soon became faster, rougher, which elicited louder moans from Sam, encouraging Dean to move faster still.

Sam’s hand moved to grab one of Dean’s, forcing the older man’s fingers to wrap around his dick once more, hips bucking as they pushed his cock into Dean’s hand and his ass back against Dean’s dick, eliciting more moans from him. “Oh God, Dean…” he mumbled, biting into his bottom lip as he met Dean’s every thrust. “Fuck…m’gonna cum, babe. Oh God…cum with me, Dean…please?”

True to his word, Sam came with a loud shout when Dean hit his prostate one last time, his back arching off the mattress as his fingers dug tightly into Dean’s back. As Sam came, his inner muscles clenched hard around Dean’s cock, pulling the older man over the edge. Dean groaned Sam’s name as he filled the younger man’s body with his spunk, some of his cum leaking out over his slowly softening dick. Sex with Sam was definitely one hundred times better than jerking off to the image of Sam while he was in the shower as far as Dean was concerned and he kind of couldn’t wait to do it again, even if he couldn’t move his body right now.

He barely remembered to roll onto his side so he didn’t crush Sam before he collapsed onto the mattress, pulling the soft sheet over his lower body so he didn’t feel so exposed. Sooner or later, Dean knew that he was going to have to get a washcloth or something to clean them up, because he had Sam’s cum on his hand and all over his torso and Sam’s thighs and stomach were a mess as well. For now though, he needed to catch his breath and get the feeling back in his legs, so he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Thankfully, Sam moved from the bed and grabbed a washcloth, cleaning the evidence of their love making off himself before doing the same to Dean. Once that was finished, Sam sighed as he flopped down onto the mattress and snuggled up next to Dean. “Mmm…you’re amazing,” he whispered, allowing his eyes to close as his head pressed against Dean’s chest, listening to the soft _thumpthump_ of Dean’s heart beating. It was a nice sound.

Chuckling, Dean pressed a kiss to the top of Sam’s head as his arm wrapped around Sam’s waist. “Yeah, you’re pretty amazing yourself, baby,” he mumbled, allowing his own eyes to close. They were going to have a rough day tomorrow, so he knew that they should get some sleep. Still, he was a little riled up, but he was trying to get over it. After all, his father was a good hunter, and it wouldn’t take him long to find them. Dean just had to hope that he and Bobby were enough to keep Sam safe. If not, then Dean knew what he would have to do – he didn’t want to do it, but he knew that he would have to.

**~~**

John growled in frustration as he picked up the collar from the trash can, his fist tightening around it. Clearly, his son hadn’t been honest with him when he told him that they could meet here so he could pick up Sam, and John was pissed now. Of all the people he thought would betray him, it never would have been Dean. John had taught him to be the perfect little soldier, but that was apparently gone now. Sam had wiggled his slutty little ass in and now Dean was no longer loyal to his blood. 

It just wasn’t going to do. John needed to get Sam back and he needed to punish the little slut for trying to take away his family. Of course, if Dean and Sam weren’t here, John knew exactly where they were, and that just made him angrier. To know that Bobby Singer, an old friend of his, was in on this too was just like the final blow. He was all alone now, and he knew it. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him; he was going to get Sam back no matter what he had to do.

After all, Sam was his slave, and it wasn’t like they could keep him from John. Sure, they may think that they could, but his son had always been kind of a dreamer thinking that he could save everyone. There was no saving Sam. The kid was already broken, and there was nothing that was going to get him back.

Angrily, John threw the door to the motel open and headed to his truck. It was about a day’s drive to South Dakota from here, and John planned on cutting that time in half. The longer Sam and Dean were together, the easier it would be for Dean to put Sam back together. And John had spent so many precious hours breaking the young slave; he didn’t want his work to go to waste, and he sure as hell didn’t want to have to start over. That would have just been an annoyance he didn’t need. Then again, it would be fun to watch his beautiful slave break at his hands all over again.

But he didn’t have time to think about all of that right now. Sam was going to pay for his little escapades with Dean. Did the slave actually think he could escape him so easily? Surely, Sam wasn’t that stupid. Then again, maybe he was. John had caught him day dreaming on more than one occasion. Maybe Sam thought he was finally living out one of his little fantasies. Well, John was going to shatter that for him and bring Sam back to the reality where he was nothing more than object that John used to pleasure himself with. 

And honestly, John was going to enjoy every moment of it.

**~~**

“Sammy, just calm down,” Dean muttered softly into the younger man’s ear, his hands sliding over Sam’s arms and moving to take his hands, helping Sam get the proper grip on the pistol that he was holding. “Take a few deep breaths and just visualize the bullet hitting home.” At least that always worked for Dean.

It just wasn’t working! Sam was a pleasure slave, not a hunter! “Dean, I’m not a good shot,” he complained, trying to focus on the soda can that was sitting on one of the old cars in the salvage yard. He was meant to have sex with people and make them feel good, not put a bullet in someone’s head. But Dean had been adamant this morning about teaching Sam how to shoot and how to fight. They had a sparring session earlier this morning, which Sam lost miserably, but Dean had praised him on the unorthodox methods he used. Sam was flexible – _very_ flexible – so he had used that to his advantage.

The shooting was a completely different matter. There were bullet holes all through this car that he and Dean were using to keep the can up, and none of them had even come close to hitting its mark. Dean kept telling him that he was doing fine, but Sam knew that he wasn’t. If he had been doing fine, then he would have hit at least one can. “Just focus on the can, Sam. And open both of your eyes.”

Sighing, Sam did as he was told, popping the one eye that he’d allowed to close open and focusing on the can. He didn’t think it was going to make a difference, but Dean seemed to think otherwise – he was the expert, after all, so Sam was going to listen. Another slow breath escaped his lips as he pulled the trigger, frowning deeply when it shattered the window about five inches away from the can. “Yeah, Dean, this isn’t working,” he muttered, turning his head towards Dean and pouting.

Dean had to admit that Sam wasn’t the best shot, but he would get better with time and practice. It was a good thing that Dean was patient because it may have taken _a lot_ of practice since Sam hadn’t even manage to hit any part of the can. “It’s all right,” he muttered, pressing his lips against Sam’s temple. “We’ll stop for now. We can try again tomorrow.” Pulling back, his hands on Sam’s hips, Dean asked, “Are you hungry? I’m starving. What time is it, anyway.”

Just then, Bobby came out to the porch and hollered at them to get their asses into the house for dinner. Bobby didn’t cook for them so they could let it get cold while they were goofing off outside with the old cars. Of course, he knew they weren’t goofing off, but practicing for when John came for Sam, but that was beside the point. Bobby had a feeling that no matter what Dean taught Sam, nothing was going to prepare the kid for a fight with a hunter like John Winchester. When it was all said and done, Dean was going to have to step in, whether he wanted to or not.

But it wasn’t Bobby’s place to tell Dean what to do. The kid was smart, so he was sure Dean would figure it out himself. Sure, it might take him longer than it took Bobby, but eventually, Dean would understand. If he wanted to be with Sam, he was going to have to fight for it.

Or maybe Bobby _could_ help with that. After all, he knew that about a year ago at this time, John had been hunting a shape-shifter. Apparently, if Sam was recalling correctly, when he got back from that hunt, he had been acting strangely. Bobby had a theory that maybe John wasn’t the one who had come home to Sam that night. It was a long shot, but it could explain a few things. And if Bobby was right, the chances of John still being alive were slim. But he wasn’t going to open his mouth about his theory until he had a little more to go on. After all, there was no need to alarm Dean yet.

**~~**

It took longer than he would have liked to get to Bobby’s salvage yard, but he finally made it, slamming his door angrily once he’d yanked the keys from the ignition. He wanted Bobby to know that he was here, and he wanted him to know that he was pissed. Actually, he wanted them _all_ to know that he was here. John was going to take Sam back with him, and he’d make sure that Dean never saw him again. That would be enough to break Sam a little he was sure. After all, he knew that there was no way he and Dean had been together all of this time, and nothing had happened between the two of them.

He was a lot of things, but John wasn’t an idiot. Every time Sam was around Dean, John could see the way the younger man looked at him. Sometimes, John had wished that Sam would look at him like that, but after the hunt with the shape-shifter, he just didn’t care anymore – he just took Sam when he wanted him, and he didn’t care what Sam thought about it. Sam belonged to him, anyway – he was John’s to do with as he pleased.

His hand rapped against the door in frustration, the hunter frowning when Bobby opened the door. “Where is he?” John demanded, not waiting for an invitation before he charged through the door and into the kitchen. No one was around, and John was getting a little suspicious. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen the Impala when he pulled into the lot either. Maybe he had misjudged his son and he hadn’t come here. 

Unimpressed, Bobby followed John into the kitchen, leaning into the fridge and grabbing a couple of beers. “If you’re looking for Sam and Dean, they went to the diner a few miles back to get pie,” he explained. “You know your son has that sweet tooth.” Handing John one of the beers that he’d grabbed, he suggested, “You’re welcome to stay here if you want to and wait for them.”

Although John didn’t want to wait – he wanted to get on the road and get as far away from Dean as he could – he took the offered beer and downed a swallow. However, as soon as it went down, John knew there was something wrong with it. Coughing, smoke coming from his mouth, John threw the bottle against the wall, his yellow-white eyes with the small hint of a black pupil hidden underneath landing on Bobby as he growled softly. “What did you do?” he asked, slowly advancing on Bobby. 

A small smile came to Bobby’s lips when his plan worked. He knew that the man who hurt John couldn’t be the real John Winchester. The man he knew didn’t hurt innocent people – he helped them. “I just popped a silver bullet into that beer and let it work its magic,” Bobby explained, honestly a little pleased w1th himself. “John wouldn’t have noticed it, but then again, you’re not John, are you?”

This was it; his cover was blown. “How did you know?” He had been doing so well, he thought. He had even managed to fool Dean, who apparently knew his father better than anyone. But not Bobby – he should have known that. The hunter was too smart for his own good.

With a roll of his eyes, Bobby explained, “I know John Winchester, ya idjit. He helps people; he doesn’t hurt ‘em. And when I found out about what you were doing to Sam, I knew something had to be wrong.” Well, he had hoped something was wrong and that it wasn’t John. He had merely been going out on a limb, but it seemed to work in his favor.

Now that Bobby knew the truth, he had to be taken care of. After all, he couldn’t allow Bobby to give Sam and Dean the heads up.

Just as John was about to tackle Bobby and take care of him quickly, a shot rang out through the house, the shifter gasping in pain as a silver bullet ripped into the chunky part of his shoulder. Quickly, he turned around, glaring at Dean. When the hell had he gotten here?! This definitely put a damper in his plans. But it didn’t change anything. Sam was still going to be with him, and if Bobby and Dean had to die to make that happen, then so be it.

Again, Dean pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting home in the shifter’s belly just before Bobby knocked the thing on its ass, pinning it down. “Where’s my father, you sick freak?” Dean asked, moving closer to the shifter and pointing the gun at its heart. If he didn’t talk, Dean wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him. “What’d you do with him?!”

“Daddy’s dead, Dean!” John barked, chuckling maliciously as he saw the emotion playing over Dean’s features. A pained groan escaped him when Dean’s booted foot connected with his side, the shifter trying to curl in on himself to protect his body from another blow, but Bobby quickly stopped him, allowing Dean’s foot to connect with the shifter’s opposite side as Dean screamed that he was lying. “Kill me and you’ll never know, Dean.”

Although Dean wanted to know where his father was, he knew this thing wasn’t going to tell him. It was just using that as a bargaining chip to keep itself alive. His father wouldn’t have allowed it to live in order to find him if their positions had been reversed, and Dean was going to do the right thing. “You won’t tell me anyway. And I know you’re a fucking liar. I just wish he could be there when I kill your sorry ass.” With that, Dean pulled the trigger, his eyes filling with unbidden tears as the light in his father’s eyes went out.

It wasn’t John – Dean just had to keep telling himself that.

**~~**

Unfortunately, the shifter hadn’t been lying about John. His body was found a few weeks later by a few construction workers who had been in the sewer system the shifter had used to get around the town he had been in. Dean just happened to be there looking for John when the news broke out.

When he saw his father’s composing body, he couldn’t hold down the meager contents of food he’d eaten that day. Sam had to practically drag him to the car and he had held him while Dean screamed and cried, throwing a fit in their motel room. Thankfully, Sam didn’t bring up the incident again after it happened because he knew that it would only embarrass his lover.

Today, Dean was giving his father a proper hunter’s funeral. He held back his emotions as he lit the match and tossed it on his father’s body, wrapped up in a light cloth and doused in gasoline. The smell of burning flesh was overwhelming, and Dean had to fight the urge to vomit. But again, this was the right thing to do, and Dean knew it, so he sucked it up and allowed the tears to silently track down his cheeks as he waited for the flames to die out.

He’d made Sam stay in the motel room for this. It was just something that he wanted to do alone; and he didn’t want Sam to have to see this either. Sam and John had been pretty close, after all. The only regret he had was that he hadn’t been able to keep his father safe – John hadn’t allowed him to keep him safe. 

Only when the last bit of flames died out did Dean climb into the Impala and drive back to the room. Sam was there the instant he opened the door, his massive arms wrapping around Dean and holding him tightly. Dean allowed Sam to lead him to the bed and they just held each other for hours, Dean’s silent tears leaving a wet spot on the shoulder of Sam’s T-shirt, though Sam didn’t mention that, either.

After Dean had sobbed for a few hours and he had nothing left in him to break, he rolled them over so that he was lying on top of Sam and he made love to the other man, holding and kissing Sam like he was the only thing keeping him together right now – and honestly, Sam was the only thing keeping him together. Their orgasms hit them both hard, both men panting out breaths as they lay in the bed together, covered in the evidence of their love-making.

Again, Sam grabbed a wash cloth and cleaned them both up, frowning at the vacant look in Dean’s eyes. “Hey,” he whispered softly, pressing a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “I’m here if you want to talk to me. You know that, right?” He knew that Dean wasn’t a big talker, but he wanted Dean to know that Sam would be here if he needed him.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean assured Sam, licking his lips as he grabbed Sam’s wrist and pulled him down against his chest again. “I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think. I just want to…forget all about this. I can’t deal with it right now.” Sighing, Dean started to run his fingers through Sam’s hair, using the action to calm himself down. “Let’s just…stop for a while. Go on vacation, or something. We could go to the beach and just forget about everything for a few weeks. What do you say?”

Although the suggestion surprised Sam, he was more than willing to go to the beach and have a vacation with Dean. “Really?” Sam asked, a small smile on his lips when Dean nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great.” He knew it was going to take a while for Dean to get over the death of his father, but Sam was going to be there for him as long as he wanted him. And if the beach was where it happened, that was even better. After all, Sam still wasn’t the greatest hunter in the world, but he was still working on it. A few weeks would help with that too. “We can go in the morning though. You need to get some sleep.”

Honestly, Dean wasn’t really tired, but as soon as Sam snuggled into his side, he felt his eyes drifting closed. He may have lost his father, but at least he still had Sam. And he knew that the younger man was capable of helping him through this loss.


End file.
